


The Gang Survives a Power Outage

by vertigo_lane



Category: The Magicians (TV)
Genre: Angst, Crack, Daggers, Dark Comedy, Elements of Horror, F/F, F/M, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Welters Challenge 2018, and suspense, cheesy products, mentions of cannibalism, mostly - Freeform, some knife lesbian™ activity, various allusions to memes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-17
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2019-06-10 21:03:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15299991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vertigo_lane/pseuds/vertigo_lane
Summary: A sort of guide, on what (not) to do during a blackout – both of the electric and magical kind.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> set between 3x04 and 3x05.
> 
> written for the welters challenge 2018.  
> week 7: _The Black Out_
> 
>  
> 
> full disclosure: the presence of certain characters (i.e. Josh, Kady, Margo) is better to be taken for granted as there's no feasible explanation for them to be anywhere near here, according to the canon continuity of the show. 
> 
> in other words: _wcyd ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯_

Let the ball commence! – shrieked the cat...1

**10:59pm.** – _the Physical Kids Cottage, the common room._

 

The evening lull set around the common room of the Physical Kids Cottage. Figures, some leisuring on the couch with their feet on the armrests; some standing about, wildly gesticulating as they retold some incredible story to the enchanted group of friends; some quietly hoveled into the window alcoves in the walls, spectating the rest with resolute determination – or was determination, really? – some, to the side, too focused, no, too _busy_ to pay attention to the gathered body of people. Some – straight-backed, very earnest, listening, taking in the _every_  single word presented, planning, silently performing intricate mental gymnastics… Some are just plain fucking bored.

“...At that, I declare that tomorrow, Q and I are going to peruse each and every source material at our disposal, in search of the next key, on our glorious quest to–”

“Or, we can do it now? _All_ _together_ ,” Eliot’s speech was deliberately cut off by surprisingly pragmatic Josh. “We can, – to use your parlance, – “peruse” and set our course of action, you know, like _right now!_ "

“Agreed,” Margo drawled from her spot on the couch. Well, from the entirety of the couch really. The current High Queen of Fillory has taken her temporary abode along its entire length, so that by proxy, not letting a single soul to even come closer at taking any chances to land anywhere even remotely near. Of course, one could try. One _could_ try.

 

The moment they entered the homely environment of the cottage, Margo’s actions were as follows: shoes – off, eye-patch – off, brassiere – loosed; lay on the couch in the most intricate pose with your feet on the armrest, arms spread, taking up all the possible space; and – breathe. _Yes_ , Margo was truly home.

From the vantage spot on the couch, Margo could see, with her better eye, the tentative gauzy chiffon of Fen’s dress as she stood near the armrest just an inch shy of Margo’s bare feet. Fen, with clear focus listened to her once betrothed, fishing for some sort of instructions. Their newly arrived offspring didn’t seem to bother to listen at all as Fray aimlessly gazed about the room. Her eyes did not radiate with a curiosity of someone just plunged into the new setting – but rather with a certain calculated manner that just howled: _suspicious_.

Eliot approached the area between Fen and Fray, landing both of his hands on their respective shoulders – the gesture immediately dodged by Fray with a swift swat of a wrist – and, once more, addressed the group at large:

“No, no, sleep first. Daddy needs his beauty sleep. Besides, it would do us all no good to venture on yet another adventure completely sleep-deprived,” with that he gestured in Josh’s general direction. The guy looked worse for wear, even Quentin could admit to that.

That evening, approximately around the time Eliot was finishing his riveting narration of the events that prompted their hasty return from Fillory, Josh had just moved all of his paraphernalia to the main room and begrudgingly resumed his investigation there. Right now, he was drowning in the plethora of open manuals, some sketches drafted by none other than Dean Fogg ( _courtesy of Todd, who gallantly "borrowed" them for the righteous cause_ ), every book in the “ _Fillory and Futher_ ” series, each open at a random page; a collection of glittery gel pens that Josh had been rolling around for the past half an hour... In other words – the work was in its full swing.

 

Josh made a wet sopping noise with his nose and turned his gaze back to the nearest sheet of paper, as Eliot continued:

“And to the other matter at hand, Fen”, hearing her name, instinctively, drew Fen’s attention to the conversation, “you and Fray are, as I realize it now, the guests to this world. So, I figured you might want to do some exploring of your own.”

“Meaning: father wants to get rid of us,” Fray deadpanned, her cold-cold translucent eyes fixed on her parental unit. The remark made Eliot stumble for a moment in his spiel. After tactfully clearing his throat, he resumed, all the while pleadingly looking at Fen:

“No, of course not. It’s just that it would do us all good to settle here for a bit. And you need to do some adjusting to the new environment, before we, _all together_ , can proceed any further”, it wasn’t technically a _lie_ – at least, Eliot would like to think of it like that, – but it is the best he could muster, at the moment, to try and soothe aftertaste of the day’s events. _Literally._ Escaping the cannibal plot or confronting his father – Eliot honestly couldn’t admit even to himself what was worse.

 

As the arrangements were in the process of being made, Alice sat staring blankly somewhere around the vicinity of the table in the middle of the room. She harbored a spot in the alcove of the window and sat there for the past hour and a half, contemplating something silently.

_One would think that losing someone wouldn’t be as hard as they say._ Well, at least, Alice thought so with her parents, specifically, in mind. And yet, she couldn’t get rid of the gnawing feeling that followed her around for the past 24 hours. _Gosh, was it even 24 hours since his death?_ She couldn’t be too sure. _And Penny!_ Learning about his death was too fast, and too soon, and too shocking; and then learning that he was still around – and to think that they actually had the means of communicating with him! – all of this was too much to comprehend at once.

Staring at the wooden indentations in the table, not really even trying to take in Eliot’s words, a plan was formulating in Alice’s head.

Quentin could see the gears turning in his ex’s head, but right now his attention was too split to read too much into it. He reverted his gaze to Eliot, who unexpectedly fell silent to ponder something over – _what was it? Something about "assigning a chaperone to his spouse and their newly acquired child"? Maybe?_ Quentin couldn’t be too sure. It was still very odd. Well, he knew that El was going to be taking up the role of a father. But not  _that_ soon! Besides, there was something off about the girl, but again – Quentin just wasn’t sure what was that exactly.

“So, this settles it. We do all the big research first thing in the morning, and as for now–”

Before he could finish, darkness befell the room, everything disappeared in Eliot’s sight for a moment. The seconds it took for everyone’s eyes (or _an eye –_ as in Margo’s case) to adjust to the dim light of the moon outside, the chaos had patiently taken its toll.

* * *

 

Chaos ensues.

**11:06pm.** – _the P.K.C., the common room._

 

The moment the lights went out, a series of events took place that could only be discerned through the sheer force of one’s audio canals. For one – instead of the deafening silence of the tangible darkness, there was surprisingly a lot of movement: fidgeting, pacing; a number of people definitely changed places, whether out of some instinct to act out or a need to alter their dispositions along with the change of the lighting in the setting – this shall remain unknown.

Nevertheless, the most distinguished sounds were: the unmistakable _shiiiiing_ – the kind of noise a piece of metal being dragged across a leathery surface made, followed by the perfect replica of _the Wilhelm scream_ 2 produced by– Todd! _How is he even here?_

 

Another sound was the already familiar, magical _ping_ of the magic key being clearly picked up by, _for the moment_ , an unknown individual. The concern for the key was cut off by sad, thin whimpering that was coming from Todd.

“Please, don’t hurt me. I did nothing wrong,” the young man practically whimpered out the words. In the dim moonlight, Eliot could see the faint flickering of something smooth and – _sharp!_ It took him another second to make the connection:

“Fen, it is alright. You can put the knife down. It’s just _Todd_ , he’s harmless.”

Slowly, the whimpering subsided as now the same sound of a knife being _sheathed_ penetrated the darkness, once more. Immediately, more stumbling followed as Todd, good-naturally in shock, removed himself from the vicinity of any sharp objects. Aside from his hastily retreating steps, another – _two?_ – sets of steps entered the game.

“Q?” Julia’s voice called out somewhere in the dark. Noticing the unmistakable silhouette of her best friend in the faint light coming from the windows, Julia moved towards him with her companion in tow.

 

Kady loathed power outages. She wasn’t afraid of the dark, _per se_. It’s just that, like right now, following Julia was inexplicably hard. _Dammit_ , she missed magic. Specifically, the handy _night vision tattoos_. Without their powers, Kady was more than certain that, for instance, the irritated _ouch_ came from Margo, who unfortunately happened to have one of her arms dangling from the edge of the couch. The hard surface to her right was probably the wooden table in the middle of the room, which she _successfully_ managed check with her hip.

She was about to prop herself on it, when she remembered – the last time she was in the room, she specifically avoided the table like the plague. The main reason for her early departure was lying right there. That cursed key – just lying about, _glaring_ at her. The only means of actually seeing him. The major reason that made her retreat early for the night, instead of gloomily hanging around downstairs with everybody.

Once it was discovered that the “truth” key revealed the hidden, – namely Penny, – who was allegedly not a ghost, who somehow remained here, among them – Kady refused to even give the offending thing a second glace. _Let it rot. Let this entire fucking quest rot. Fuck it._ A part of her wanted to see him, to hear his voice again. This was even painful to admit, to think of the possibility and hope it’s not just one cruel joke. Just as Kady had left the main room that evening – Julia followed suit, perhaps, in a vain attempt to provide any consolidation if need be.

 

Now, they both descended to the realm of the semi-living once again, just as the first sign of things going awry showed itself. They meant to just check if the lights went out in the entire place. _Apparently so,_ concluded Julia.

“Jules!” Quentin’s hopeful exclamation aimed in the general direction of his best friend’s voice.

“What’s going here? Everyone’s alright? What’s happened?”

“Light went out. We nearly had a _Todd_ -shaped sacrifice; other than that – everything’s fine,” to Todd’s dismay, a smile was evident in Margo’s overjoyed voice.

“I-I was just trying to get something to eat,” Todd bleated. “I came down, but then you all arrived, so I stayed in the kitchen until everyone left,” he considered his words for a second, “or, well, until the lights went out.”

“Wait, the lights – was it you then? And, by the way, it’s been more than an hour since we all arrived here,” Eliot’s confused voiced echoed in the darkness. “Todd, where you in the kitchen all this time?”

“Yeah. And Todd?” Margo inquired. “Why don’t you just– hovel up with your snacks upstairs, like the normal people?”

Todd hesitated:

“I-I just didn’t wanna be a bother, that’s all.”

“Well, that’s just sad.”

“At any rate, it wasn’t me who turned off the lights,” Todd breathed out, “and, by the way, there’s no food in this place.”

“Nothing? At all?” Kady chimed in.

“Nada.”

“That’s just wonderful,” Eliot sounded exasperated.

“Well, at least we’ve eaten _plenty_ today, haven’t we, _father?_ ” Fray let herself be known again. Her voice sounded just as creepy as expected with the added lack of illumination.

“Stop it,” Eliot snapped. “You’re still grounded.”

“Alright, people, let’s not wallow,” Josh, somewhere to the side of the group, picked up on the cheerful tone, despite a severe exhaustion, “Lights out? It’s temporary, I’m sure. Meanwhile, we gotta find something to do while we are at it, shall we?”

 

_**15 minutes later.** _

 

“–And that's the story of how one third of my liver got misplaced in an undisclosed warehouse, on the outskirts of Salzburg…”

“Jeez, Todd, do all of your stories end like _that_?” even Margo sounded perplexed.

“Like what?” Todd was genuinely puzzled.

“With your body parts missing?” Eliot sighed. “Speaking of donors and deteriorating livers: _where’s all the booze?_ ”

“What do you mean? It’s all there on the table,” Quentin quipped from his new spot near the couch, granted by Margo herself; he partially laid on her on the couch – partially sat on the floor, allowing for the better access so that his best friend could try out her _five-stranded, French-mermaid side-braid with a horse tail_ on him.

For a whole minute silence reigned as Eliot felt around the said table, and then:

“Nothing,” he finally concluded. “There’s absolutely nothing on this table.”

“Fogg must’ve taken all the remaining alcohol back to his office,” Julia suggested from her place near Kady. “We must’ve missed it, somehow.”

“You know, this is just great. Just the cherry on top!”

It was certain to everyone involved – Eliot was getting more and more  _unnerved_.

 

“First, we are forced to run from the pirates, then from the godfor- _fucking-_ sakencannibals, then my father–” Eliot cut himself off, “And now this whole power outrage–”

“You mean, outage?”

“What?”

“Power _outage_?” Quentin reiterated.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” everyone could hear the straccato pacing of Eliot’s shoes. “And now, as it turns out, there’s nothing to eat or drink– Do you all realize what that means?”

“A conspiracy,” Josh pronounced, oddly, without any enthusiasm.

“Exactly!”

A quiet short laugh followed – for the first time in hours, Alice let her presence be known; weirdly, nothing particularly humorous was uttered – and yet, it seemed like Alice had just stopped short of full on laughing at some private joke of hers.

 

Everyone’s attention reverted back to Josh’s voice:

“Nah, it’s too early to say,” Josh thought for a moment. “But I wouldn’t rule out some sort of scheme, no. Or it can very much be a part of the quest!”

“Then we better find a way to complete it, right?” Eliot’s voice was getting more erratic. “Anyone who has any potential light source – a match, a used candle wick,  _anything_ – can have my first born.”

At that, a dull stomping noise resonated in the room – allegedly, the sound of Eliot’s ankles getting murdered by the aforementioned first born – and some more fidgeting as people searched about their persons. Until:

“I-I think, I have a match?” screeched Todd, just as uncertain as before, and held out something barely visible in the never-ceasing light of the moonlight. Momentarily his wrist was seized by Eliot’s firm grip – a single match  _procured!_ Fortune clearly smiles upon them. Well, for the time being...

“Todd, – and I say it without any exaggeration, – when I die, all my earthly possessions shall go to–” one could only imagine the hopeful expression on Todd’s face at that moment, “–to Bambi. To care for my dear wife and our daughter, I leave–” again, he stopped for a bit, contemplating, “–well, _Bambi_ , as well... _But_ , tomorrow you can be their chaperone around the city! I’ll allow it, yes.”

“ _Thank you_ ,” somehow Todd managed to sound genuinely grateful for a person who was  _rewarded_ by being assigned to accompany the same crowd who, for all he knew, less than half an hour ago, were on the brink of being the sole cause of his early demise by stabbing. _Amazing._

Having obtained one match, _at last,_ Eliot headed in the general direction of the couch. Gingerly lifting a leg of the nearest armchair, Eliot extracted something solid, rectangular-shaped and dark in the low light of the moon.

“ _‘Horomancy 101’_ ,” he triumphantly declared, already thumbing through the book.

 

A solid minute passed between everyone getting clued in that the current High King of Fillory wasn’t looking for a specific spell in _clock magic_ – which, _alas_ , would’ve been useless, at the time, whichever way you looked at it – and for Kady to perform a great feat of dodging over various people's heads on her way to restrain Eliot from starting an actual arson.

“Tell the fuckers, they're on their own now,” Penny commented from his spot near the alcove, heard by no-one with the exception of Alice. “I won’t be around to save their asses anymore.”

“–The _fuck_ you think you’re doing?!” Kady had both of her arms around the shoulders of the tree stalk of a man, and was currently succeeding in progressively tightening her grip on him the more Eliot struggled.

 “We need the fuel–” some more struggling, “–for the fire place! Let. Me. Go!” each word marked by a lurch; Eliot was tenaciously trying to get away. To Kady’s dismay, the match, _helpfully_ produced by Todd, was of the _strike-anywhere_ kind; after noticing the white tip of the match, Eliot gleefully located one of the many buckles in his elaborate outfit, that were sturdy enough and within the striking distance. Just one swift flick of a wrist and the match was ablaze, _finally–_

–only for somebody to knock it out of Eliot’s trembling hand and simultaneously put the thing out, for good. Wildly glancing about, Eliot saw the culprit in the moonlight still filtering through the windows; the culprit who, in fact, turned out to be Quentin – who surprisingly dexterously managed to disarm his best friend.

“El,” Quentin drawled soothingly, “El, calm down. It’s just that, right now, you’re probably not at your best to operate an unmanageable fire hazard.”

Eliot only mumbled _Traitor_ , bitterly and resumed his attempts at escape.

 

“Is it always like this?” Fray uttered appropriately non-good-naturedly.

“It is,” with resignation Todd stared, with a somewhat vacant stare that was directed at struggling Eliot. “First, there’s no food… Then they cut off the electricity... Then daddy says: ‘ _There’s no other choice_ ’ and burns the house down…”

Dead silence fell upon the room. Even Eliot quit moving for a moment.

“Todd? You alright?” Margo was the first to break the tension.

“Mm, what?” as if emerging from some internal mucus, and then:

“Yeah, _pff._ Fine. I’m _fine,_ ” just like that Todd’s confused, happy-go-lucky attitude was right back. 

 

“It’s just so futile,” continued Fray, mockingly, “to rely,” _thump_ “on one’s,” _thump thump_ “visual senses.”  _thump_ “So human...” _thump_

“But, dear, you _are_ human,” gently retorted Fen. “And– are you heading somewhere?”

In reply only some more dull thumping noises from an unspecified direction.

 

“Right… So what do we do now?” Josh wondered out loud. “That match was our only–”

Suddenly, he fell silent. A resounding _smack_ flooded the momentary quietness; the sound of something hitting a surface made of cloth with purpose.

“Of course! How didn’t I think of this earlier!” Josh exclaimed overtly exhilarated. A second later, a relatively small point of light filtered in the area near the fire place, illuminating Josh’s face. But just as the light appeared – it started to dim down just as quickly, and then flickered out completely, bathing the space in darkness once more.

“I don’t get it… It was full charge, just now, I swear!”

“Wait–” Julia pulled out her phone, and just like in Josh's case the device illuminated her face for a second, showing the screen that read **11:30PM** in big block figures, and then promptly went out. “Mine has just died as well!”

As it turned, all the present owners of the phones, who had them handily near-by, with sorrow found their devices inexplicably out of charge.

“ _‘Mobiles, landlines, tin cans with bits of string - everything, absolutely everything! No phones, phones all broken.–’_ ”3

“Josh, are you– are you quoting _Torchwood_ at us?” Margo sounded somewhat incredulous.

“…Maybe so?”

 

“What about candles?” impatiently quipped Fen. “Do people here, on Earth, not use them?”

“Fen, you _are_ a treasure, you know that?” Margo breathed out, exhilarated. “I have been harboring an extensive collection of candles since day one– there must be _a shit-ton_ of–”

“No, there isn’t,” Todd cut off Margo’s stream of thought. Taken aback, Margo didn’t react right away:

“To-odd,” she drawled calmly, making sure that the mere sound – the one syllable that is his name – was enough for Todd to realize the gravity of his situation and carefully measure out the next words to come out of his mouth. “The _fuck_ did you do?”

“Well, you see,” the lad began lamely, “once, there was this one rave, and we thought it’d be so fun if we used–”

“You know, what? Just stop. I don’t wanna know the rest of it,” Margo moaned irritably. “We don’t have anything to light them with, anyway. Not after our own _Guy Montag_ 4 fiasco over here.”

_What’s that even supposed to mean?_ Eliot dejectedly wondered to himself.

 

“Well, I can–” Julia wanted to suggest her retained abilities as a way of getting the light, but suddenly was stopped as somebody jumped in front of her and tentatively dragged her aside.

“Jules, wait,” Quentin whispered conspiratorially.  

“Q, relax, everyone kinda already knows.”

“ _Todd_ ,” he lowered his voice furthermore, “Todd doesn’t know.”

“C’mon, he’s harmless!”

“Mm, no. Still wouldn’t trust him.”

“But why?”

“Mm-m. It’s _the eyes_ , you kno–”

 

“ _Psychics!_ ” unexpectedly, the senseless back and forth that wouldn’t have led anywhere lucrative, was broken by Alice. “The psychics must have lots of candles.”

“How do you–”

“Penny is here. He’s certain there’s plenty of candles in the Psychics’ House. He says that–” she hesitated for a moment, “–that we can borrow some– okay, _okay_ – we can _steal_ some from them. Penny knows exactly where to look.”

“So, it was you who took the key? When the lights went out?” Quentin managed not to sound _too_ accusingly.

“Yes,” replied Alice, diligently. “Just in case it got lost in the dark.”

“ _Sure, Jan_ ,” quipped Margo. “Whatever you say. So you and Penny are going out soon?”

“Yes, we are,” with a nod to her right, Alice got up. “We’ll be on a lookout for any other aid, too.”

With that Alice, Penny and the key hastily left the Physical Kids Cottage.

 

“Blown fuses!” bellowed Eliot, still being somewhat restrained by Kady. At this sudden outburst, she shook off the momentary confusion and tightened her arms around Eliot’s shoulders. “That must be it!”

“Don’t try anything funny, Waugh.”

“Oh, please, it’s not like I’m going to actually commit an arson or anything,” Eliot thought of reasoning to with her, though something told him it wasn't going to work; if he leaned any closer to Kady, he was certain he'd hear the sound of teeth gritting. “And besides, here’s simply nothing to start a fire _with,_ anymore.”

This did nothing for Kady’s resolve. Mulling the received information over, though, she asked:

“You know where the fuse-box is in this place?”

Eliot nodded vigorously.

“Moreover – I know where the spare fuses are kept!” surprisingly that insured enough trust for Kady to let him go, but keep a somewhat close distance. “We used to prank the newbies with manual blackouts.”

“Not anymore, though,” added Margo.

“Why not?” inquired Josh.

“Too costly. Once you remove a fuse–”

“–It always gets misplaced,” finished Eliot.

“I’m still convinced something was eating them,” added Margo.

“Oh, definitely.”

 

“Alright, alright,” Quentin cut in, “so a fuse might’ve been blown? And, Eliot, you know how to fix that?”

“Precisely–”

“Oh, I’m not letting him wonder off on his own to find more _fuel_.”

“Kady,” Quentin started towards her and Eliot’s general direction, “what if I went along? To supervise?”

Kady pondered over it for a moment, a crease in her brow visible in the low light.

“Fine,” she said finally, and fully let Eliot go. “But whatever happens – it’s on your conscience, Coldwater.”

“Duly noted.”

The two shuffled away in an undisclosed direction, led by Eliot.

 

“And I,” began Josh, standing up from his spot, “am gonna visit my _alma mater_. There’s got to be at least _one_ of my magical stashes left around there somewhere. Because, we, _the Naturalists_ , are not some  _heathens_ who don’t leave a thing behind, so that our brethren are left to wait for the hungry death,” by this Josh was mostly alluding to Todd, who quietly whimpered in gratitude.

As Josh exited the cottage, Julia whisked Kady somewhere away to another room, leaving only Margo, still stretched across the length of the couch. The only other people in the room were: Fen tentatively flittering about; Todd, who was fighting an urge not to curl up in a fetal position; Fray– _wait, where is Fray ?_

“Perfect, just great!” cried out Margo into the empty space in front of her. “Split up, just do it!.. Because nothing terrible has _ever_ come of it!”

* * *

 

Splitting up the party never killed nobody.5

**11:34pm.** – _the P.K.C., front yard; the undisclosed location of the Psychics' House, a solitary cove._

 

Surprising to no-one, it was brighter outside than on the inside. The moonlight gave way for the shadow of a solitary figure to fall on the uneven gravel. The shuffling of Alice’s shoes echoed in the empty yard. It was odd, – to walk beside someone and not hear the sound their shoes made; to see them, but not the indentations the soles of their shoes should be making in the malleable surface.

“I know you didn’t grab the key to keep it safe.”

Alice nearly flinched, too focused on their joint footwork. She reckoned that Penny would be the one to suspect anything. Alice just didn’t want to admit to it, just yet. So, she preserved the silence some more.

 

“You don’t have to tell me _why_ ,” Penny continued, looking around the empty lot, “but, just know that– Alice? I’m the last person that’s gonna judge.”

Intrinsically, Alice knew that. It was perhaps the biggest part of _why_ she took the key. Not just for the chance of having someone to talk to – but because, it was exactly  _Penny_. She doubted, if it so happened that it was somebody else, like–

“How did you figure it out?”

“Huh?”

“About the key. That I’ve taken it for something else,” Alice pronounced with faint notes of frustration in the voice.

She could see Penny smile slightly from the corner of her eye.

“I’ve been sort of hyper-focused on it, too, since it’s turns out y’all can see me with it,” he paused. They both remembered the second the key was left on the table, not to be touch for a while; the moment it was suggested to Kady and explained what the key can actually _do_. The moment she left the room, followed by concerned Julia. Since then – no one dared to even approach the table it laid on.

 

“So, naturally, I’ve noticed something,” Alice quizzically turned her head in his direction, taking his words in. “ _You_  – practically burning holes in that thing.”

It didn’t sound like an accusation and Alice wasn’t ashamed to confirm the validity of Penny’s words. Still, there was something he didn’t know for certain:

“Yeah, I might’ve had some ulterior motives,” she gently retorted, feeling at ease, “but they are probably not what you think they are.”

A pleasant silence befell once more. They had just neared the edge of the campus' clearing, when Penny motioned to the left, up the hill.

 

The rest of the way they spent in comfortable lull of Alice’s steps, until they finally reached their destination. Opening the front door didn’t pose any problems – as the place had been freshly abandoned by its habitants, right after the announcement that the Brakebills was, most likely, to be closed down.

Walking up the staircase, Alice made sure to carefully step up as the darkness was impenetrable inside the Psychics' House. _It must be nice not have to worry about missing a step and tumbling down, for the chance of breaking your neck._ Alice wondered as she neared the top, where Penny was already waiting for her.

She never had been to the place where the Psychic students resided. Walking around the newly discovered space, _a cove_ – Alice had heard someone call it, – in the faint light of the moon, she made out some gauzy draped cloths strewn about. Tightly grasping the key, she reverted her eyes back to Penny who, at the moment, was looking down at a medium seized chest, with a big comically bulky lock atop of it.

 

“I’ve seen them pull some stuff out of it,” Penny explained, “for burning sages and such. Pretty sure this thing is bolted to the floor – probably, the reason why they left it behind.”

Alice crouched down in front of the chest and, in the murky light, tried to discern how the lock worked. The thing was definitely locked, without any keys – _aside from the obvious_ – in sight. Then, she considered the latch affixed to the chest itself.

“You know, maybe there some secret–” Penny was trying to look round the entirety of the chest, to find some other clue, other than the big bulky lock. At that same moment, Alice took off her right shoe and – making sure that the latch was loose enough first – _swung_ her newly-armed fist.

_Clank!_

A resounding clatter accompanied Penny’s voice, as both the lock and the latch it was still holding onto, along with some rusted bolts – all came down clashing to the floor.

“–or we can do _that_ ,” Penny finished sounding relieved.

Alice tossed the metal bits to the side and stood up. Both of the partners in crime hovered over the gilded monstrosity, now free of its bounds. Alice, as the only _corporeal_ person in the room, had the honors of opening it.

 

She braced herself for the hefty weight of the lid, but it was nothing compared to the shock that greeted them once the offending thing was pried open.

“Oh?”

“The _fuck_ –?”

* * *

 

**11:42pm.** – _the P.K.C., the common room; the temporary residence of Margo Hanson, namely – the couch._

 

Just as a single _thump_ – which Margo assigned to either Kady and Julia or Fray, _lurking about_ – reverberated around the mostly empty room, Margo allowed herself to stretch out some more. It’s been a long day, and quite _frankly?_ – there was no particular need to find a solution to their immediate problem till tomorrow. If anything it gave them all a perfect excuse not to deal with the quest at hand, at least  _until_ morning. _Gosh, why everyone’s so uptight tonight?_ In addition to this, Margo did _really_ need _to rub one ou–_

Suddenly, there was a soft, yet startling _sigh_ drifting from the farther armrest, where currently Margo’s bare feet were peacefully dwelling. _Fen,_ she remembered, – rather _smelt_ first, than remembered. The already familiar scent of some wildflowers, mead and something almost _– rusty? –_ something that was forever cemented in Margo’s mind as part of Castle Whitespire; as part of  _Fillory_ itself.

 

“You know, you can sit down if you want.”

This must’ve alarmed Fen, – in the dull light, Margo saw her head make a sharp turn in her direction. Smiling privately, Margo fully removed her feet from the arm of the couch, indicating, a free pass. Her smile widened when there was a tangible dip and creak of the furniture as Fen finally took a full-fledged seat. A light gauzy cloth grazed Margo’s skin as she leisurely scooted to the opposite side of the couch, facing Fen.

“How’d you know it was me?” Fen inquired, curious.

“I could–” _smell you?_ No, she’ll leave such smooth lines for the _explicit furry enthusiasts_ ; it might’ve been a while ago, but Margo was certain that _Q & A_ still held all the good patents for such eloquent phrases. Instead, she opted for:

“–could see that knife of yours; blinking in the moonlight and all.”

“Oh,” was the only response, as Fen put her right hand to her belt.

“Also – nearly stabbing Todd in the face? Nice one.”

“I-I didn’t mean to–” Fen seemed to hesitate, “it was more of a reflex, nothing more.”

“Still,” Margo grinned, “I can respect that.”

There was a moment of stillness _–_ not stifling, but rather _serene_ – in which two women reveled for the time being.

 

“D’you want to see it?” Fen sounded genuinely eager at the prospect of showing off her blades.

“Sure thing.”

Margo scooched closer, hugging her knees close to her chest, and wondrously peered down as Fen unsheathed one of her blades. The two moved toward the brightest streak of light protruding from the night sky; this revealed the tiniest, most intricate patchwork of patterns, _etchings_ that turned into delicate microcosm of flowers of some kind that sat comfortably at the very bottom of the blade, near the hilt.

“–Like it?” Fen asked, returning Margo from her mesmerized state to the realm of the living. “I’ve made this one myself.”

There was clear pride in Fen’s voice. The work and talent that must’ve gone into creating this _masterpiece_ was something Margo would've loved to personally witness. For now, all she could utter was:

“Woah.”

“Thanks!” Fen cheerfully exclaimed, clearly flattered by the response. “Here, you can hold it,” and with that she handed her creation to Margo.

Immediately, Margo felt the coarse texture of the handle. Looking closer, she discerned it had a carving of some sort, too hard to see in such lighting. The smooth, impeccably polished double-edged blade gleamed in her hands as Margo dragged it along the length of the lightstreak coming from the window.

 

“ _The stars around the fair moon fade_ –”6 she muttered under her breath.

“What?”

“Mm, nothing,” Margo weighted the cold weapon in her open palm. She swallowed. “It-It’s a well-balanced knife?”

“Well, I sure hope it is,” joy in Fen’s voice was undeniable, “oh, and this one’s not exactly a knife, but more of a _dagger,_ –”

Margo smiled blissfully still holding the _dagger,_ and watching Fen as she reached somewhere around her belt once more.

“–and the other one, on the opposite hand–”

 

Here Fen stopped for some reason. Margo could see her frown in the dim light as Fen felt around her own waist some more.

“What’s up?” Margo asked nonchalantly.

“Hmm,” Fen’s expression grew earnest, “one of my blades’ missing.”

“Huh… wait, what?”

“Oh!” at that Fen raised both of her palms up, face momentarily clearing up from any concern. “It must’ve been Fray!”

“Fray– ?!”

“Yes! It must be her – she stood the closest to me before the lights went out,” oddly, Fen seemed overjoyed at the prospect. “You know, I’ve always dreamed of taking an apprentice of my own...”

Fen sighed what could only be described as _a happily sigh_ ; all the while, Margo hugged the blade, still in her hands, closer to herself and squinted into the darkness.

“And to have an apprentice in my own daughter is– such joy!” Fen continued to vent merrily. “I was really anxious for a moment, when we had learnt that our daughter wasn’t a baby anymore, I was fearful we’d missed that window – you know, the one where young girls develop a passion for cold weaponry?”

“Huh, I think, I know what you mean…” Margo contemplated for a moment. “ _Ahem._ Fen, back to the topic at hand!”

“ _Yes?_ ”

“Fray? With a cold weapon? Lurking in the dark? Right about _now_?”

“She couldn’t have gone far away…”

“And where’s Todd, by the way? Todd! TODD!”

* * *

 

**11:40pm.** – _the P.K.C., near the common room._

 

The moment Eliot – with Quentin in tow – had exited the common area, he turned sharply to the left and stopped, prompting the latter one to nearly crash into his back. As Eliot was busy rummaging around one of the various cabinets near the staircase, he felt something touch his vacant hand. Pausing in his search to lift up the said hand, Eliot said without turning to his companion:

“Afraid of the dark, Coldwater?”

Eliot felt rather than saw Quentin shrug one shoulder, seemingly unconcerned.

“Not really,” and then added. “It’s more so that my _legs-to-mouth_ coordination is extra _shitty_ in the darkness. And, besides, you are the one who knows the way… So, _lead the way_.”

“ _Aye_ , captain,” Eliot drawled lamely, firmly grasping Quentin’s hand.

* * *

 

**11:50pm.** – _somewhere around the subbasement area._

 

“Are you absolutely sure we are going in the right direction?”

“Yes. I know every corner around here like the back of my hand,” Eliot hoped he sounded reassuring, but _frankly?_ – he wasn’t too sure himself.

You see, he’s only been to the subfloor of the cottage a couple times – _when magic was still around, at that!_ In addition to this, he was likely properly inebriated and with a raucous band of the _happy-go-luckies_ like himself at the time – that all seemed like such a long time ago. It probably _was_ a really long time. _Wonderful. Another reminder of the inevitably fatalistic passage of time. Good one._

 

In one hand, trying not to spill a handful of procured fuses – in the other, disoriented Quentin, Eliot stalked unseeingly forward, guided by the sheer muscle memory. He recognized a low set of steps that he was ready to _bet on_ , led to the utility room where the fuse-box was located. Carefully descending the steps, – half-dragging, half-leading Quentin behind him – they entered a sort of niche, _a hall_ that unmistakably must be leading to _the utility room!_

–only for one reason or another, Eliot had stopped in his tracks, not moving any further.

Quentin tried getting his attention by calling out to him and yanking his shirt sleeve, until:

“Q,” Eliot finally unfroze, “tell me, _what do you see there?_ ”

At that, he lifted their joined hands and gestured to the dimly moonlit wall opposite them. Quentin squinted, carefully looking about the wall.

It was a perfectly _mundane_ wall, Quentin thought. Nothing special; nothing to halt over and _kinda-sorta_ scare him shitless. _Thank you very much_.

 

“It’s a wall,” he remarked unenthusiastically.  

“Yeah, _a wall_ ,” with each syllable, volume of Eliot’s voice was waning, along with his bravado. “But _why_ a wall _?_ ”

Quentin recoiled from stating the obvious and instead mused over the received information. Looking around it was a reasonably spaced hall, with a staircase in two steps leading down, three bare walls–

_That doesn’t seem too sound_ – at least, from the _architectural_ stand-point.

The reasonable explanation didn’t present itself as such after a little consideration: say, there had been a door once, – _a magically infused door_ – which led to the utility room. But now that the magic was gone – once a handy convenience turned into one very  _uncomfortable_ safely hazard. Unless…

 

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Quentin wondered somehow excitedly.

“Yes, I’ve already suspected an onset of _Creutzfeldt-Jakob_ – _or, even, kuru 7, which would be most unlikely and yet–_”

“No, I meant,” Quentin stopped Eliot’s growing hypochondriacal rant, “ _magic_.”

“Huh, and how exactly?”

“To be honest? No fucking idea.”

 

Just as Quentin uttered those last words, the two heard a very distinct, sharp as the blades of a rusted pair of scissors –  _giggle,_  from somewhere behind them _._

The sound so startling that Eliot dropped the poor unutilized fuses  _tink ti-tink tink –_ fuses one by one rolled on the uneven floor around their feet – and used his newly-freed hand to securely wrap it round the other man; whether it was done for his or Quentin’s sake – he wasn’t sure.

“Who goes there?!” Eliot yelled out towards the area they had come from just mere moments ago. His exclamation was met with deafening silence – aside from his and Quentin’s erratic breathing.  

 

Not willing to let go of each other, the two stayed like that for a while, trying to somewhat calm down – when suddenly, something darted across the room ahead of them, for a second disrupting the smooth patch of moonlight on the linoleum floor below.

“Well, Q,” Eliot whined bitter-sweetly, “this is how we _die_. Prepare to haunt the halls of the once efficient utility room of the–”

“Wait, I think I saw something,” Quentin appeared astonishingly focused. “Wait, here. I’m going to try something.”

With that he moved a little forward and away from Eliot, towards the source of their _potential_ demise.

Moving slowly, not daring to cross the threshold, Quentin leaned a bit forward over the low staircase, to be able to peer around the corner. A moment passed. And then another. Finally, exhaling, partially out of relief – partially out of some, instilled by the day’s events, frustration, – he returned to his original position beside Eliot and called out:

 

“Fray! Come out,” he sighed, “we know it’s you.”

Eliot’s bewildered eyes moved between his companion and the even patch of light on the floor. After a while, a _not-too-tall_ figure appeared from around one the corners; the _owlishly_ big eyes and a mop of fine translucent hairs, escaping a loosely made ponytail – starkly visible in the silver light, – ratted out their owner.

Fray was half leaning on the wall, seemingly concealing something, all the while regarding them both with an indecipherable expression.

 

“Fray, what are you doing here?”

The girl didn’t respond to her father’s inquiry, instead opting to shift her position which caught Quentin’s attention.

“Hey, what’s that? Let us see what you have there,” he tried for a more or less friendly approach.

Finally, Fray moved, fully stepping into the patch of light. She raised the object in her hands, high above, for everybody to see.

 

“A knife!”

“NO!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this one took embarrassingly long to update y i k e s sorry

'Timeo Geeks et dona ferentes!' – Virgil, _probably_ 1

 

 **11:47pm.** – _the Physical Kids Cottage._

 

Rushing back to the cottage took Alice twice less time than getting to the Psychics’ abode. Her shoes roughly scrapped the gravel as she practically skidded to a halt, the key in her right hand – a single paraffin stick in her left. Yanking the front doors open, Alice let the moonlight stream in full force for a moment into the foyer of the cottage; it seemed like the presence of the moon was everywhere, she realized. No matter whichever way one faced or headed – there was always the shine of the moon.

These thoughts were in the back of Alice’s mind – at the forefront, though, was the problem they were all about to be confronted with at that very minute. As she slammed the doors shut, cutting off the temporary illumination, Penny was right beside her, in his astral state, just as before.

In the darkness that settled, Alice heard alarmed footsteps somewhere from the other side of the common room. In the dim light, she saw silhouettes of Fen and Margo, still occupying the couch all the while conversing in hushed whispers amongst the two of them.

 

The footsteps turned out to be Kady and Julia who seemed to be inseparable that evening:

“Alice, you’re back!” Julia’s voice exclaimed, oddly relieved. “Have you found something?”

As a reply, Alice raised her left hand that held the longish object, without uttering a word. Then, she thought the better of it and said:

“We found one,” she paused, “one candle.”

“Only one?” Margo chimed in.

“Yes,” Alice breathed out. “Apparently, the Psychics have cleaned out the place.”

“And left only _one_ candle?” Kady sounded confused and frustrated, “But why?”

Alice made an uncertain, almost embarrassed noise and then proceeded to move a little forward. With a quiet _thud_ , she set something on the table in the middle of the room and speedily retracted from the spot.

 

“It’s a penis,” she finally admitted.

A snort sounded from the couch area.

“Come again?”

“It’s a–,” Alice was clearly perplexed by what she was going to muster up next, “it’s a _penis_ -shaped candle.”

 

A full-on laughter reverberated among them. Margo unabashedly let her raucous snorting laugh to carry through the common room. Even Kady cracked an amused _huh_ while Julia and Fen set in the fit of giggles. The situation was so absurd and hilarious that Alice herself could feel the initial shock waning along with the relieved laughter of the women in the room. She allowed herself to crack a tiny, unabashed smile in the darkness as something started to push at her from the back.

 

“So we have a _candle cock_ , what’s now?” Margo was the first to pose the next utmost reasonable question after everyone calmed down for a bit, but was cut off by–

Jumping a little and reflexively looking to Penny, – who still remained non-corporeal – Alice deftly stepped out the way as the doors unexpectedly swung open.

“Now, people! I have good news, bad news and good news… again!” Josh proclaimed right as he entered the interior of the cottage. In the moonlight all could see him carrying something of sizeable proportions; something rectangular and reflective. Hefting the mystery object with the help of his hip, Josh continued without a prompt:

“Found some cottage cheese casserole – barely started! Bad news, though: it’s not one of my more _potent_ snacks, so the only thing that is magical about it is how well-preserved the whole thing is. Which is the good news!”

Josh uncovered the aluminum wrap and began going about the room, handing out the pre-cut pieces of casserole.

“Josh, if you poison me – I’m going to feed you to the fairies,” Margo warned nonchalantly, still taking a piece.

“No worries, _Your Majesty!_ I’d take the full responsibility if something were to happen. This though? I swear by.”

 

Fen took a piece, Julia and Kady took other two – even Alice wasn’t opposed to a bite; all of them haven’t eaten for a couple of hours now. There remained some more casserole in the plate and Josh realized that not everyone had rejoined their group.

“Where’s everyone else? Where’s To–”, Josh’s inquiry was cut off by Margo, who was already soundly munching on her piece:

“OK, back to the dick-candle at hand,” she said between the bites.

 

The question stayed unacknowledged for a while, silence only broken by Josh’s conspiratorially whispered _Wait,_ _a what-candle?_ and a collective chorus of polite chewing. What were they supposed to do really? After that dramatic display with Eliot, they had lost their only potential source of light. _Unless…_

“I can still try to light it up,” Julia suggested timidly, expecting Quentin to jump out of the shadows any minute, in order to preserve her secret – from _Todd_ , of all people – and suggest they get fire through the sheer static electricity in his hair and a gas stove.

 

Approaching the table, Julia righted the candle and put it on its surprisingly sturdy base; she performed a single-point, focused fire conjuring spell, dexterously going through its motions. The wick immediately caught on fire, illuminating the area around it in a low yellowish hue, simultaneously illuminating the tip of the proverbial phallus and giving Josh a tiny _Aha!_ moment.

“Kady and I were about to go to looking for Q and Eliot – they’ve been gone for a while now,” Julia addressed Josh. “We could bring some for them…” with that she motioned to the plate of the unfinished casserole.

“Here, take it all,” Josh handed her the entire dish, “in case you two stumble upon the others as well.”

 

With a slight grateful curtsy, Julia took the offered plate of casserole and nodded at Kady – who very reluctantly picked up the _goddamn_ candle – as they both left the room, bathing their friends into the darkness once more.

* * *

 

 **11:53pm. –** _the_ _subbasement area._

 

The second Julia and Kady had left the general vicinity of the common room, even despite having more clearance than anybody in the cottage – Kady managed to trip up on something, nearly dropping their only source of illumination.

“I swear,” Kady started, indignant, “there _is_ something, right _there_ on the floor.”

“Sure,” Julia sounded amused, but still half-heartedly checked the hallway between the kitchen and the main room they had just passed. Not noting anything out of the ordinary, Julia freed one of her hands – supporting the half-eaten plate of casserole with her thigh – and offered the other hand to Kady.

“You realize,” the other woman skeptically regarded Julia's hand, “I’m taller than you.”

“So?” she only held her hand out some more, smiling slyly.

“It’s a long walk, if I go down – you go down.”

“Oh,” Julia pretended to consider the information for a while and slowly started to move her hand away, “well then.”

“ _Hey_ ,” Kady stopped her and quickly gripped Julia’s hand in hers. “I didn’t say _no_.”

Smiling privately, Julia tugged her companion in the direction of the basement – at least, where she suspected the basement _was_. It was wildly speculated that the subbasement of the Cottage was populated with actual _ghosts_ and was usually closed off, when magic still permeated the Brakebills. Now, with _that_ out of the way, there was no need to prepare dispels cancelling out the confusion charms for the uninvited guests; just your natural compass and intuition as to where the hell everything was.

 

The two had been walking around the subfloor for solid five minutes, when suddenly they heard a very distinct sound of someone’s voice. Julia immediately recognized the softer pitch of her best friend's and led Kady in that exact direction.

They walked relatively slowly, at first, when the silence fell again only to be broken by another voice and a collective screaming of “ _NO!_ ”

 _That_ made the two hurry along.

 

Rounding a corner, Julia and Kady saw something streak away from them, across the patch of the moonlight ahead. Looking to her left, Julia noticed an alcove and two terrified figures, clutching at each other for dear life.

“Q!” she exclaimed.

One of the figures seemed to flinch at suddenness of Julia’s voice and then:

“Jules? Is it you?”

“Yeah! And Kady, too… We come bearing gifts,” at that she cautiously lifted the plate of unfinished casserole, showing it off in the dim light.

 

“What’s going on here?” Kady was confusedly looking in the direction of _something_  that, she was certain,had just now ran into the opposite direction from them.

“It’s Fray,” Eliot sounded mildly defeated.

“Wh–”

“She’s–,” he stopped to catch a breath, “she’s here.”

“And, we think,” Quentin continued, “that she might– might have a knife?”

“No, Q, we _know_ she has a knife.”

“A WHAT?”

“Yeah,” Eliot seemed to take the newly-obtained information in stride and instead redirected his attention to Julia. “Hey, is that cottage cheese casserole?”

“It is!”

“Wait, what about–”

“Kady, relax,” Quentin mumbled, taking a piece of casserole, along with Eliot, “Fray’s gone. She's run away or something...”

“Are you crazy?! She’s still right there–”

“Do you see her now?” Eliot was somewhat gracefully chewing on his piece. “Delicious. Finally, some good fucking food...”

“How can you focus on food right now?!” Kady sounded incredulous, still holding the candle, sporadically pacing about.

“There’s a fairy-spawn on a loose! _With a knife!_ ”

“–Well, technically, she’s a _me_ -spawn.”

“Ugh!”

 

Having noticed a very familiar expression accumulating in the crease of Kady's brow and the baring of her teeth – the _I’m-about-to-punch-somebody-in-the-face_ expression – Julia decided to change the topic, for Eliot’s sake, while tightening her grip on Kady’s hand.

“So, have you found the source of the blackout?”

Quentin swallowed a big bite:

“Not really…” he looked sad for a moment. “There’s no door.”

“What door?”

“To the utility room,” Eliot quipped in, cautiously eyeing the fuming Kady, “there was a door once – not anymore.”

“How’s that possible?”

“Popular theory?” Quentin suggested. “It was there before, when magic was a thing–”

“So a magically infused door?”

“Yep.”

“Pretty fucking dangerous, if you ask me,” Julia drawled out.

“Yep,” Quentin agreed dejectedly.

“Alright, so we’ve failed, fine,” Eliot shrugged nonchalantly. “But you’ve found actual light! Yay?”

“About that…”

“Here!” Kady was quick to hand the torch to Quentin, who took it unassumingly. “You can have it.”

 

After a few quiet moments, he realized:

“Oh.”

“It’s a dick,” Eliot was smiling.

“It sure is,” Kady confirmed, matter-of-factly.

 

"Okay,” Quentin sounded uncommonly unbothered, “are there any more… _candle-dicks_ around?”

“No, it’s the only one,” Julia explained.

“So it is our only source of light,” Kady warned, “don’t screw this up.”

“Of course...”

 

Quentin moved deeper into the hall they had come from, illuminating the three bare walls, and finally concluded:

“There’s still nothing.”

“So, there’s no reason to waste our time here,” Eliot was clearly eager to get out of there, “let's move along, miscreants.”

“Wait a moment, but what about the girl?” Kady was relentless.

Everyone fell quiet, contemplating their current situation, and then:

“I have an idea,” Julia unclasped Kady’s hand and crossed the moonlight streak, moving closer to the other corner that had turned even darker with introduction of the bright light.

 

Julia still had the plate with some bits and crumbs of casserole in it. She had settled the plate on the floor in front of her, and tentatively called out:

“Fray? You can come out,” she began softly. “It’s alright if you have a– a knife – because you won’t hurt us, right? We’re all friends here, Fray.”

In reply only more silence.

“Okay,” Julia tried to sound nonchalant, “but we also have this delicious casserole right here, that we’re going to have to throw away, I guess…” with that Julia nudged the plate closer to the impenetrable darkness.

There was some more momentarily silence, and then – scrapping of the plate against the floors as it was being yanked across the linoleum, into the abyss, never to be seen again.

 

“I still think the girl is the culprit in all of this.”

“Kady…”

“What? I’m just saying, rewarding her with food is not what we should be doing right now.”

“Mm, no. I doubt it was her – Fray’s a newcomer,” Quentin sounded mildly thoughtful, “ _Todd_ , on the other hand…”

“Q, what the hell do you have against Todd?” surprisingly it was Eliot who posed the question. “Don’t misunderstand: there’s been time when I would've whole-heartedly vouched for Todd to be transformed through death... But, I think, the guy grew on me, you know.”

“Don’t let your guard down,” Quentin continued on with his spiel, “there’s something _unsettling_ in those beady eyes of his…”

 

Silence fell as they finalized an unspoken agreement to set a course out of the lower levels of the Cottage. Despite the fact that now Quentin was the bearer of the _dick-lighting_ , Kady and Julia were leading their cozy group of four. There was just enough light for them to bundle closely by and start moving at a measured pace.

In the orange-yellow drops of light, Eliot caught a sight of something in his periphery and in a half-whisper, made an instant note of it to his companion on the right:

 

“That’s nice,” Eliot muttered, indicating one side of Quentin’s head. He’d almost forgotten that there, on full display, was the evidence of Margo’s mastery in elaborate hair-braiding. “I really like this.”

It was a simple, seemingly off comment, but it left Quentin feeling somewhat warm on the inside. He reached, almost self-consciously touching the braided side of his hair.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, smiling softly, “it’s all Margo, though.”

“Mm-m.”

“By the way,” Quentin added after a moment’s contemplation with a tentative look in Eliot’s direction, “meant to say this earlier: but I _really_ love this whole sailor's look on you for some reason. _Especially_ this shirt.”

 

As if for the first time realizing it was there, it was Eliot’s turn to self-consciously feel about his person; he put his palm on the chiffon-ish material on his chest and tried the cloth between his fore- and middle fingers. With the day’s events having almost completely evaporated from his mind, just one well-meaning complement – _from Q, of all people_ – brought down the bitter associations like a shower of bricks.

But it was _Quentin_ , and it had nothing to do with anything his father ever–

 

“Thank you,” Eliot said instead, his voice traitorously cracking.

“El? Are you– are you crying?”

“No?”

Seeing Eliot swiftly and _very_ obviously dabbing at the corner of his eye, Quentin decided not to question the matters for the time being and just let the hush set once more, only squeezing Eliot’s hand a tiny bit harder.

* * *

 

 Finita la commedia.2

 

 **11:55pm** **. –** _the common room._

 

Absent-mindedly tracing the velvety material of the cushion with one finger, Alice remained in her alcove staring into the space, deep in thought. Just like before, as if she'd never even moved. She had the key lying beside her, untouched, as Penny, unseen, silently paced the floor in front of the windows.

 

Everyone was engaged into their micro groups: Margo and Fen still sat in their spots on the couch, delighting in the comfortable silence of the darkness after the departure of Kady and Julia. Josh had returned to his ‘work station’ which for the time being was the billiards table that they had used for everything _but_ the billiards. The guy was dejectedly looking at his research; in the pitch black, all-enveloping dark corner where the light of the moon was powerless and had sucked away even the crisp white of the paper scattered about. _Well, that was just disheartening._

 

The only other two people in the room were Alice and him – and Penny didn’t feel all that concerned about it, but had taken note of the fact that Todd and that girl – _what was her name again?_ – were both seemingly absent. His train of thought got cut off as the already familiar trill of the key being picked up, filled up the tiny alcove once more.

“I wouldn’t have done it, you know, even if I could,” once again bearing the truth key, as if emerging mid-conversation that transpired only in her mind, Alice continued:

“I wouldn’t have brought him back,” she briefly looked at Penny and then clarified. “ _My dad_. I’m not certain about bringing him back.”

That had Penny frowning, non-judgmental – just curious – as he took the seat beside Alice where once the key had been resting.

 

After a minute’s stillness, Alice resumed her monologue without a prompt, in half-whispers:

“It’s not that I’m uncertain in–” she cut her speech off, sighing, frustrated, “–with the right resources, with _magic_ – I know _can_ bring him back from the dead.”

And she probably could, Penny thought. If anything, Alice had to be the last person whose abilities they would have called into question.

“I’m uncertain whether he’d want that,” she continued. “I have no way of knowing if he’d even want to be brought back.”

At that Penny finally started to glimpse at what was really going on. Perhaps, Alice was relating her own experiences with mortality to the whole situation. They all remembered that technically Alice had no choice in the matter of her existance. That sounded ludicrous – _but what if returning to the realm of the living was not what it was all cut out to be?_

“But I’d be more certain with you…” that had retrieved Penny from his musings. Alice was looking to her left, directly at him, “with you, we actually have a way of knowing– what you’d want and what you wouldn’t want.”

Penny was frowning.

 

“Alice, what are you–”

“–And I would, you know?” she sounded oddly flustered; her words hurried, bundling together bit by bit – Alice was on the verge of full on  _stutter_. “If only there was a way to get magic back, right _now_ – I could try– I just need to look up an _Osseus Confervium..._  But first I would need to practice. Bone-knitting is extremely–”

Penny was smiling somewhat morosely throughout Alice’s sudden, passionate speech. It was endearing to know that someone truly cared, in the midst of all the chaos and the quests, and the _goddamn_ keys–

“Alice, hey, listen,” Penny gently cut in, halting her mid-word, “it’s alright. Relax.”

She had stopped her train of thought and sagged a little, ending the stream of consciousness, but keeping in the back of her mind to go through the necessary spells at least once – even on the dry, just in case, before the magic was back, so that as soon as they–

“I can _see_ you think,” Penny teased not unkindly. “Honestly, with everything that’s going on right now? Alice, I really appreciate it.”

 

The last couple of words felt weighted and meaningful, and too serious – and he _was_ earnest; Penny was grateful for his friend’s efforts. Right at that moment, thought, his objective was to disassemble the tense atmosphere, so Penny breathed out and continued on:

“Just chill, okay?” his voice had employed a more playful tone. “Besides, we’re bros, right?”

With that Penny instinctively held out his right palm, clenched into a fist, offering it for a bump. That got Alice to smile a little as she tentatively raised her own–

It took a second too late for them both to realize that one of the fists wasn’t precisely present and tangible – as Alice’s tightly wound palm went right through Penny’s. Drop in the previously established mood was momentary, adding an unnecessarily sour reminder of the current situation at hand.

 

“Oh, that’s so sad!”

That was Margo who’d, from her vantage point, apparently seen the entire display in the outlines, near the alcove – well, at least _one_ side of it – and was quick to voice her reaction at the sorrowful image of Alice fist-bumping the air. That warranted a non-malicious flick of the middle finger in Margo’s direction from Penny, seen by nobody else but Alice.

Right at that moment, the sound of footsteps clambering into the room interrupted their semi-idyllic instance of friendly banter. Then and there, they all heard a loud, obnoxious reverberation of the floor as somebody – who, judging by the incoherent swearing, had turned out to be Kady – evidently, took a very hard fall.

Apparently, she had taken Julia along with her as the other woman’s voice whispered a soft _dammit_ seconds before descending down as well.

 

What they all didn’t expect was for the two more voices to join in the chorus of falling and cursing simultaneously – Quentin and Eliot, ironically the only people in the room with any kind of proper light, managed to trip over the other two at the front of their scouting party. Well, Eliot did _nearly_ trip over, had he not let go of Quentin’s hand; Quentin who full on went down and out of sheer suddenness, dropped their _only source of light_.

“Goddammit, Coldwater!” it was Kady, currently lying in the heap of her friends and watching as the paraffin baton rolled in the opposite direction from them.

 

Everyone had stopped what they were doing and with batted breaths regarded a start of another potential fire merrily roll away under one of the wooden cabinets.

A moment passed… then another… then–

 

Surprisingly, Eliot was the one to scramble in order to retrieve the object and prevent the possible arson. _Look, how turns tabled,_ Penny thought tartly.

Noisily unbending his knees, Eliot stood up, presenting to the gawking audience the unharmed, still lit dick-candle.

He stared at it for a while and then did something that stupefied the last remaining brain cells of the gathered people in the room – Eliot had brought his thumb, fore- and middle finger together, as if readying to cross himself, then very deliberately moisturized the three fingers with his glib tongue. Using the generously saliva-coated fingers he pressed at the wick of the candle, immediately putting it out.

 

At least, he thought he had put the thing out. Eliot had expected the predictable sting from exposing his flesh to the open fire, or at least the rising smoke of the extinguished flame – none of that happened.

Instead, the second Eliot had removed his fingers the fire reignited itself with renewed power, burning as bright – if not _brighter_ – as before. It reminded him of those relighting birthday candles people used to prank their friends with; he also remembered that he had never seen them in person in his childhood years. The first time he saw one in real life was actually thanks to Margo. Of course, at the time she didn’t realize how immense it was and why exactly it practically left Eliot teary-eyed – but since then, on Eliot's birthday, every year without a fault, Margo always made sure to have a handful of those _damn_ relighting candles with her.

The thought made him really miss his Bambi, who was just a mere few feet away, and still–

 

Eliot's internal musings were interrupted by the cacophonous sea of agitated voices:

“What the–”

“How’s that possible?”

“How is it still burning?!”

He held his open palm over the flame once more and concluded:

“Huh, odd. It’s warm, but…” he trailed off and then attempted something that would warrant him another round of screams from his audience. And sure enough, the moment Eliot put the fire near one of the knobs of the wooden cabinet – everyone in the room erupted into loud yells of opposition.

But just as Eliot expected, the candle flame didn’t char or damage the wood in any capacity; the fire just framed the little round protrusion, without leaving a single mark or even a streak of smoke behind.

 

While the group was involved into a silent chorus of gasps, a loud very familiar groan sounded somewhere from the human heap on the floor. Everyone turned their attention away from the former source of arson as Eliot shed some light on the pile of people that consisted of Quentin, Julia, Kady and–

“Todd?!”

 

There right under Kady laid the familiar lad, groggy-eyed and disoriented.

“Todd, the fuck are you doing on the floor?” Margo's eloquence knew no bounds.

“I-I don't feel so good…”

 

At that, Kady sprung up, vigorously pointing at Todd, fire in her eyes:

“It was you!” she struck her finger in Todd’s direction. “It was you! I’m not crazy! It was you I’ve tripped up on earlier!”

A row of confused stares had turned to Kady.

“It’s true,” Julia came to the rescue. “Todd, were you here all this time?”

A minute passed, before puzzled Todd mustered a coherent enough explanation:

“I was on my way to the kitchen,” he began as a sound of his stomach grumbling promptly made itself known, “I-I think, I blacked out.”

“Jesus fuck, Todd…”

“Have you found some food?” Todd's voice was hopeful, but not too much.

“Ahh, sorry, dude,” it was Josh, who replied this time, “we've had a plate of casserole,” he looked to Julia, “but it’s gone now, apparently, so…”

 

Todd’s stomach rumbled again.

“That’s it. I’m gonna die here.”

“OK, we’ll get to you later, _Todd_ ,” Quentin returned everyone’s attention to the strange candle light, “now, what about the eternal fire over here.”

 

Todd whimpered pathetically and began moving to the side as everyone – except for Julia – had moved closer to Eliot and the strange light.

“Maybe it’s the candle,” someone suggested.

“Mm, that’ll mean magic…”

 

While everyone was engrossed into the inspection of the mystery object, Julia had fully separated from the group and actually moved closer towards Todd.

“Hey,” Todd looked sadder by the second, as Julia rummaged in her handbag, “I think, I have a mozzarella stick here, somewhere...”

This made Todd’s attention snap up as Julia produced, indeed, a longish, somewhat soggy stick wrapped in some cellophane.

Even without the direct illumination, one could see tears shining in the guy’s eyes as Julia handed him a single mozzarella stick – like some sort of baton of hope, set to salvage a life.

“Thank y-you,” he stuttered out, taking the cheesy product. Unwrapping the cellophane, Todd focused on the only source of food at that moment; Julia smiled to herself.

Helping people felt nice.

 

Right in that moment _something_ had changed. The second Todd’s full lips wrapped around the girth of the mozzarella stick – the entire room got bathed into the brilliant, glistening light; as if daytime had begun, right there on the inside, in the interior of the cottage.

 

Recovering from the momentarily confusion and the sensation of being blinded by the golden light – the source of it became very obvious, very soon.

“Jules…”

Everyone stared at Julia in wonder as light protruded from her eyes, shinning on every surface and somehow covering everything in its the vicinity, making it seem as if the night wasn't waiting for them right outside those walls. Julia just blinked and looked round, confused.

“I don’t get it.”

Todd was munching on his stick, while staring in awe at Julia, just like everyone else in the room. A flitting thought passed Julia’s mind: something about helping people. Each time she felt something change inside of her. Never before it had resulted in streams of brilliant lights, though.

 

“Well, guess, we’ll never know now,” Margo shrugged, standing up. “Does it have a switch off? Some of us wanna get some sleep.”

“I don’t know,” Julia admitted, dumbfounded, “it’s just happened.”

“Well,” Josh chimed in, “I’m certainly not complaining.”

He had moved to his work station at the pool table and gleefully resumed his research, blissfully non-questioning.

Eliot, who was still holding their previous source of illumination, having noticed that the fire was almost invisible in the golden rays covering everything in the room, and simultaneously rendering the candle useless – he'd dropped it off on the top of the cabinet and moved to Quentin, placing his broad hand on his best friend’s shoulder:

“Guess, there’s no escaping work,” Eliot sighted, dejectedly.

The two moved to Josh, who was cheerfully sifting through the available material. Having stood up, Margo tugged confused Fen along with her:

“C’mon, you can crash in my old room,” Fen seemed wonderstruck at the idea.

 

Alice remained in her alcove, still the holder of the key and smiled slightly.

Kady stood by Julia, who remained somewhat prostrate in the middle of the room; Todd beside them, still chewing on his mozzarella stick, tears of gratitude now amplified by the brilliant right, shining in his beady eyes.

“But about the blackout?” Kady wondered out loud. “Aren’t you people curious?”

Margo just shrugged, she and Fen disappearing up the stairs. Nobody else seemed to care, raveling in the new, more efficient source of light.

 

“Guess, we’ll never know,” Julia concluded.

 

And just like that, everyone had made peace with the lame phantasmagoria of their situation and refocused on their respective tasks at hand.

 

The End.

  

**_1 hour and 45 minutes earlier_ **

 

 **10:15pm.** – _the_ _Dean’s Office._

 

“I know, they’re hiding something, the fuckers.”

The room was only filled with the clicking of glass against glass, mixed with gruff complaining of Henry Fogg.

“They don’t understand,” he continued on, “they will never understand... And I’m just always here, constantly in the dark... again and again...”

Silence had settled briefly and then–

 

“You know, Henry, I have an idea,” Fogg heard a barely audible _crack_ of the wood as Bigby had hopped off his desk and gracefully landed on the carpeted floor.

She used to visit him often those days. With the absence of magic, the hunt for magical creatures had intensified. So, sometimes, Bigby would pass through Brakebills on her marry way to some safe house on the other side of the globe. Mostly, the two of them ended up drinking together, in his office, deep into the late hours, with Henry cursing the existence of the multiverse itself.

 

“How about,” her silvery vowels suggested mischief, “we play a little prank on the brats?”

Fogg's only reply was more clicking of glass and a delighted hum, an indication of a non-ambiguous agreement.

 

“Say,” Bigby's voice now contemplative, “a bit of illusion work, some light cancelling spells – but I won’t be able to do anything about the moon,” she confessed mock-petulant, “I’m not in her favor these days, unfortunately...”

 

Fogg laughed for the first time that evening.

“What,” her voice was getting further away as Bigby was moving closer to the exit, “it’ll do them good; besides, I need to abide by my whimsical nature once every decade, so…”

At last, Henry Fogg let his laugh reverberate at full force, as he lifted his glass of rum in a farewell salute, and simply uttered:

 

 

“Just fuck them up, babe.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> References:  
> 1 – _Timeo Geeks et dona ferentes!_ is a brutalized version of the phrase "Timeo Danaos et dona ferentes" ("Beware of Greeks bearing gifts"), because i have no clue what's latin for 'geek';
> 
> 2 – _Finita la commedia_ (it. "the farce is over"), allegedly originated from: "Plaudite, cives, plaudite, amici, finita est comoedia".
> 
>  
> 
> thank you everyone who got through this one! :D let me know what ya think

**Author's Note:**

> References:  
> 1 – the title is a quote from _Master and Margarita_ by _Mikhail Bulgakov_ ; the ball mentioned here is, specifically, the Satan's ball;
> 
> 2 – Wilhelm scream is the kind of stock audio footage of a dude screaming, often utilized in various movies;
> 
> 3 – a quote, here said by Josh, is from the TV series, _Torchwood_ , to be exact: season 2, episode 2;
> 
> 4 – Guy Montag is the protagonist of the _Fahrenheit 451_ by _Ray Bradbury_ ; Margo uses him as a comparison to Eliot, with his book-burning tendencies (it's a weak reference, I know);
> 
> 5 – another title is a sort of play on words, a paraphrase of the song called _'A Little Party Never Killed Nobody'_ by _Fergie_ ;
> 
> 6 – _"The stars around the fair moon fade..."_ is a beginning of a poem by _Sappho_ , briefly recited by Margo;
> 
> 7 – _Creutzfeldt–Jakob_ and _kuru_ are diseases mentioned by Eliot; the both of them are linked as a direct result of human-on-human cannibalism.
> 
>  
> 
> p.s.: this is going to be a two-parter – otherwise, i'll meet my early demise.


End file.
